Thank you for your continued interest and support. I appreciate it.
I do not own Merlin or the characters, neither do I own Wicked In Your Arms.
Gwen glimpsed the prince's widening eyes as she pressed her lips to his. Her heart was beating so fiercely she feared it might burst from her chest.
Almost...
If she allowed herself to think about what she was doing and allowed such a thing as fear to enter her heart.
But she saw nothing anymore as her eyes fluttered shut.
And in closing her eyes, she only felt. So she surrendered herself to sensation... to the waking of desire within her blood.
She was no stranger to kisses, but it had been a while. And the moment she tasted the prince's lips, she knew he was the perfect cure for her numbness.
For several heartbeats he didn't move, he held himself still as marble against her, and she feared his rejection... That he would set her away from him.
Then his arms slipped around her and he was kissing her back, his lips parting against hers.
She opened her own mouth for him with a small gasp. And he swallowed that sound. He drank it deep into himself.
Gwen pressed herself closer and tighter against Arthur, her muscles straining to get nearer.
And a shudder racked him when she tentatively tasted him with her tongue.
Then she buried her hands in his hair, pulling him down just as he urged her up against him.
He tasted her back in the same way and she moaned at the sinuous stroking of his tongue along her own.
His large hands roamed over her back, holding her tightly and fiercely. Then one of those hands slid around to span her rib cage, his thumb grazing the underside of one aching breast.
And her body burned from the inside out.
There was nothing delicate or dandified in the way Arthur kissed. And Gwen felt consumed. By her own desire and by the magic of his expert mouth on hers.
Her hands delved deeper into his hair. And with a hard tug on the strands, she forced his head to a different angle, repositioning his head for her and slanting her mouth against his one way, and then another.
She didn't know herself anymore...
She was this woman, this stranger losing herself, taking and seizing what she craved as if it was hers.
As if he was hers...
Just then, he groaned into her mouth and the sound shuddered through her.
But she relished the feverish movement of his lips on hers and the slide of his tongue deep in her mouth.
He made her feel wanted. And that made her feel powerful.
In that moment, she didn't feel as if any of it could ever be enough... As if she could ever have enough of him.
Impossible as it seemed, the kiss deepened. And they staggered together, clutching one another, stopping only when they collided with a pianoforte.
Arthur nipped at her bottom lip and then sucked the bruised flesh into his mouth, clutching her closer for his starving mouth.
And still she wasn't close enough...
Her body hummed, alive and awake as she hadn't ever felt before. And that's all that mattered. The extraordinary thrill of this moment.
She wanted to crawl into his drugging warmth and let it continue its waking heat through her.
Nothing could ruin this moment...
Nothing except him...
As Gwen dragged her lips to the prince's jaw, kissing his bristly flesh, his voice rumbled in her ear...
"My, my, Miss Davies, I had no idea such a hellcat lurked beneath. Perhaps you've reconsidered my offer?"
She stilled, his words sinking in, reminding her where she was... who she was... who he was.
And the fire in her blood cooled.
The humming life that had so thrilled her a few moments ago, slipped away until she was nothing but a cold, numb shell again.
However, nothing had doused Arthur's ardor...
His hand drifted up from her rib cage to brush over her breast. And the touch jolted her, and sparked her to move... to react as any female of proper breeding should.
As any unwed female who had not initiated a passionate kiss would do...
She slapped him.
The crack of her palm against his cheek rang through the cavernous room. And his arms dropped from her.
She stumbled away, gaping at him as he lifted a hand to his cheek, fingering the afflicted flesh.
"What was that for?" he demanded.
"You...you..." Her hand waved between the two of them, words of outrage strangling in her throat.
"Kissed you back ?" he finished.
"No!" she denied. "You touched my..." She swallowed, unable to say, unable to utter how close she had come to surrendering herself to him. "You touched me. Intimately."
"Well... the way you attacked me with your lips, is it any surprise? I thought that's where we were headed."
"So this is my fault?" she charged, even as a small voice inside her head whispered, 'Yes. This is your fault. You attacked him with your lips like a man-starved harlot. Just as he said.'
Heat swept over her face...
"You were hardly a victim of my attentions."
Arthur shrugged in the shadowy room.
"I reacted as any red-blooded man. I did not expect my touch would be unwelcome to someone so eager to kiss me in the first place."
Mortified, Gwen closed her eyes in a slow blink. She could deny nothing he said. She'd behaved wanton and then slapped him when he had reciprocated.
She opened her mouth to apologize. For everything... The kiss... The slap...
She loathed nothing as much as admitting she was wrong. A weakness to be sure, for she knew she was far from perfect.
Papa had accused her of being too headstrong on more than one occasion. And rightly so.
Only she didn't get the chance to utter those difficult words...
Arthur stepped back from her, putting space between them as though she was something foul. And he likely thought she was. A tart or worse.
The terrible notion seized her...
What if he thought she was a desperate debutante hoping to get herself compromised so she could land herself a prince?
Hot gall rose up in her chest that he should think such a thing of her.
The bitter taste coated her mouth at the thought of his suspecting she had set her cap for him.
Holy hellfire!
She fumbled with her hands, unsure where to put them and desperate to appear dignified now...to bury the wild, tempestuous female of moments ago and convince him she was a staid, respectable female with no designs on his person.
She watched him as he wiped a broad palm against his jacket, as if the feel of her was a regrettable sensation.
"Perhaps we should avoid each other during our stay here," he announced.
His words stung.
Absurd, of course. Because she completely agreed with him.
Nothing good ever came from their encounters.
He didn't like her and she didn't like him...contrary to that brief lapse in judgment moments ago when she had thrown herself into his arms.
He was an escape... A break from the numbness. That's all the kiss had been.
She had seized a chance to feel again, to let sensation flood her as she lost herself in the arms of an attractive man.
She nodded roughly... They simply couldn't get along. Every time they shared the same space sparks flew, and not sparks of the good variety.
Well, any variety was really not to be desired with him.
She stopped nodding and finally found her voice...
"I couldn't agree more. You're obviously here to pay court..."
"Not to you," he cut in, his voice angry.
"I know that," she gritted past clenched teeth. "And I wouldn't want you to court me, make no mistake of that."
Arthur gave her a look that said he didn't believe her. And she admitted to herself that she probably wouldn't believe her, either.
What girl wouldn't want to be a princess?
Even the tomboy that she was, she'd often fantasized about living in a castle with a hundred-horse stable. It had been her favorite fantasy as she fell asleep every single night.
Gwen perched a hand on her hip...
"Just because I kissed you doesn't mean I like you. You were a welcome diversion from what's been a less than pleasant few days."
"Diversion?" Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, clearly not liking the sound of that.
Satisfaction curled through her. It was nice to offend him for a change.
Her lips twitched as her gaze swept over him...every glorious masculine inch of him. She knew it was improbable that anyone had ever called him a diversion before.
Women probably thought the sun rose and set upon his manly visage. But she was glad to make a dent in his overinflated ego.
She lifted her chin...
"Yes. It won't happen again, rest assured. The experience wasn't quite what I hoped for," she lied.
Arthur's stormy eyes swept over her as if he didn't quite know what to think. And a smile threatened her lips again. She doubted she was like any female of his acquaintance.
He straightened...
"I'm happy to hear that, then. I'd hate for you to think that our interlude meant anything."
"Oh, I wouldn't think that," she assured in her most offhand tone.
He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze penetrating through the shadows, searching her face. But she held herself poised, as still as an arrow that moment before it flies from its bow.
Finally he broke his gaze, turned from her, and strode out the door without a backward glance.
Gwen waited several moments, gathering her breath and her composure before making her way from the room.
Her steps fell silently as she moved down the corridor, her shadow stretching long into the night.
"Where've you been, ol' boy?" Nigel asked.
Arthur downed his brandy in one smooth move before motioning for the waiting footman to refill his glass.
He cursed under his breath at the sight of his shaking hand.
"Nowhere."
"Well, you were nowhere for some time."
He shrugged.
"I took a stroll. It clears my head."
"What do you need to clear your head about? The world lies sprawled before you, yours for the taking. You've won the war and you have the plumpest of heiresses baited on hooks for your choosing. Life, cousin, for you at any rate, is good."
Indeed, he should agree with that sentiment.
For the first time in years, his kingdom was at peace.
He was alive and his kingdom was on the mend. He should be able to put the years of war, pain, loss and uncertainty behind him.
He should...
Nigel stared at him, still waiting for a response.
"I only needed a bit of air," he replied, once again vague.
"Ah." Nigel smiled as if suddenly understanding. "Would that air happen to be in the company of a certain Lady Phillipa?"
Arthur grimaced...
The lovely Lady Phillipa had not even been in the vicinity of his thoughts, which was unfortunate, because she was on the top of his list of prospective brides and the reason he found himself here at all.
He'd already received her father's hearty approval for the match.
But his cousin mistook his grimace for guilt, it seemed.
"Ah, I see."
Nigel winked in an exaggerated manner and Arthur was quite certain he did not see anything at all.
With a covert look for the other gentlemen in the room, he leaned in close...
"Well, she is a fetching bit of skirt, I'll give you that. Couldn't blame you for stealing away with her for a spell. And her papa did encourage you to better acquaint yourselves, did he not?"
A snort of laughter followed this.
And Arthur slammed down his drink.
"I wasn't with her."
Too late he realized he overly emphasized her.
"Oh." His cousin's eyebrows winged high. "Not her, eh? Who then?"
Arthur merely grunted and flung back another drink. He wasn't about to confess he'd been occupied with the elder Miss Davies and have Nigel think there was something afoot between the two of them.
Because that most certainly was not the case.
Yes she had kissed him with all the fire and skill of a seasoned courtesan, but that meant nothing. And his cheek still stung from the memory of what she thought of their kiss... thought of him.
He was not the sort to chase any woman, though. If she was not interested in a dalliance, then so be it. He wasn't interested in her.
What desire could he feel for a female who insulted him and the kingdom he'd spent half his life fighting for?
She was not the sort of female he liked at all.
She was too impertinent... Too short... Too sun-browned and freckled as any field hand.
Suddenly, her bright eyes, seductive and heavy-lidded as they had been in that shadowy music room, filled his memory. And his throat went dry.
Naturally he'd responded to her. She was a warm, willing female. And he was merely a hot-blooded man.
Certainly there was nothing he found appealing about the her.
Nothing at all.
Still...
The image of her swam through his mind and the taste of her burned on his lips.
Arthur set his unfinished drink down... And Nigel blinked up at him.
"I believe I'll retire for the night. I should like to rise early for a morning ride."
"In this weather?"
Arthur snorted, recalling spending many nights in tents with arctic winds raging outside and distant cannon fire lulling him to sleep.
"An London winter is no match for Camelot in winter. You should remember that."
Nigel's eyes clouded over...
"Perhaps. But I was just a boy when we were banished."
Arthur nodded and squeezed his cousin's shoulder, regretting reminding him of the sore subject.
"You know you are free to return home, right?. Grandfather does not blame you for your father's transgressions."
"It fails to signify. Mother will never set foot on Camelotian soil again. And I cannot leave her here. It's all water under the bridge at any rate. I'm a Londoner now. Thank God they love titles. I may be destitute, but I have no dearth of invitations to the finest homes and parties. And I'll not starve."
Arthur clapped his cousin on the back.
"There is that."
"Maybe I'll wed an heiress myself. Mother says it's about time." Nigel scanned the room with a judicious eye, his gaze stopping on Reginald Davies. "One of the Davies chits could be ideal. That fiery one with the freckles who tossed her drink on you." He chuckled. "Bet she'd be a fine ride between the sheets. No boring romp there."
At that, Arthur's hands fisted at his sides.
"Leave her be!" he commanded.
And Nigel looked sharply at him.
"What? She might be unsuitable for you, but not me. She'd probably be grateful for my regard. She hasn't had an easy time of it."
"She's mine!"
He didn't anticipate the words... He didn't even know he felt so possessive towards her until he uttered them.
Yet, staring at his cousin's shocked face, he found he did not regret them.
"Yours?" Nigel asked.
Now was the time to take back his words, Arthur realized. To explain he meant something else.
Instead...
"You heard me."
The notion of his cousin...or any man...laying a finger on Gwen filled him with a deadly rage.
He did not regret the words and yet he should not have said them.
Should not feel them...
With a tight nod, he bade good night and left the room, before he said anything else he could not retract.
Stay safe!